McDonald’s wrappers float over the field of the Flodden
In Rossville Street, the trucks are late for the bins
The souls beneath the shankill lie there forgotten
Whilst down in Westminster they pray for their sins
In Hungerford, at school they protest the rainbow
In Whitehaven, they push the dead out to sea
Over the pond in Low Manhattan, they sell sorrow
Deaths played on a circuit for a $24 fee
In these cities and towns, where does the Hopespring?
Where do you find the light at the end of the rope?
Perhaps in the hearts and the minds of their offspring
How do the elders ever expect them to cope?
There’s a gun range on Orange Avenue in Orlando
A busker plays Wonderwall on the Rue Voltaire
And in Flanders year on year the visitors dwindle
Whilst their grandchildren idolise those that put them there
